Does The Physiology Of Money Have A Happy Ending?

That day, my parents and sister who were all working abroad suddenly told me that I was a second-generation rich with trillions of dollars in wealth!Gerald Crawford: I am a second-generation rich?

Sometimes love demands a second chance, but it will never be bought, no matter the amount. Michael Carrington promised himself after losing his wife that he was done with love. No more investing in anything he wasn’t capable of walking away. Sex and high-dollar business deals would become the center of his world. Throw in a touch of danger, and he has all he needs outside of a new assistant. Rainey Foster has finally graduated college, and as a struggling single mom, she just needs someone to give her a chance. She’s willing to go all in with the right employer, as long as the buck stops there. He can have her time, her commitment and her attention, but no one will ever have her heart again. She thinks she has things figured out until she comes face to face with the illustrious Michael Carrington. Powerful. Confident. Sexy as all get out. Lust might ignite the flame between them, but love will have its way.

The Rossi family has a rule. If you want to be the next Donna, you have to prove yourself. Make three hundred million dollars, clean money, in a single year. All on your own, no family help. I spent ten years trying to do it for Vincent. I built ten companies from the ground up. But every single time, just as I was about to cross that finish line, something would go wrong. Everything would just… collapse. This year, I finally did it. I ran to his study, audit in hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. I thought I’d finally won. Instead, I learned my entire life was a lie. He handed my entire empire to Ava—my father's bastard. All because she supposedly saved his life once, and he wanted to make her the real Donna. I gave up. On him. On my family's dream of rising with his. Then I picked up the phone and called the Outfit in Chicago. "Your marriage proposal," I said. "I accept."

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

My husband is poor. We've already been married for three years, but I've covered all our expenses during that time. Even when I'm interested in a cheap bag when we go shopping, he says it's too expensive. He tells me not to buy it. Later, I discover that he gives his first love a four-million-dollar diamond necklace for her birthday. It turns out he's not broke and heavily in debt—he's the heir to an affluent family with a net worth of billions of dollars.

Just how rich can a person be? My husband, Don Leonardo Bianchi, is incredibly wealthy. Every time he abandons me for his childhood sweetheart, Sofia Rossi, he gives me a building. The first time, it was a luxury apartment building with a sea view. The tenth time, it was a commercial property in the prime downtown area. By the 50th time, the general managers of several real estate companies had started calling me "Boss". Five years into our marriage, my real estate spreads across the entire country. When the deed to the 97th building is delivered to me, Sofia sends me a taunting voice message. "You might have the property deeds, but I have Leonardo. Aurora Esposito, tell me, which one of us is the real winner?" After listening to it, I don't cry or make a scene. Instead, this time I take the initiative to draft an agreement and wait for Leonardo to sign it. Once Leonardo comes back, he signs it and praises me for being magnanimous. He then takes me to a party as his date. At the party, Sofia loses game after game and is stripped down to only her underwear. When she loses once more, she turns to me—who is wearing only a dress—with a meaningful smile and says, "What's the fun in just me taking things off? I think Aurora, the perfect Donna, should join in too." Amid the clamor of cheering, I quietly look at Leonardo. "You just have to take off one piece of clothing. Don't spoil everyone's fun. When we get back, I'll give you another building," he whispered to me coaxingly. I calmly acquiesce. Little does he know that he won't have another chance to give me anything, because what he blindly signed earlier is our divorce papers.